Aftermath
by outofthesun
Summary: Chase, as the new Head of Diagnostics, has to find another fellow because Taub and Adams have moved on. Not only that, but he has to fill House's shoes, with only Park and Foreman to help - no mean feat. Set shortly after 'Everybody Dies'. T for some swearing. Chapter 4: Playing House. Apartments and positions both can seem empty.
1. First Moves

It is an odd day when he walks into Foreman's office, and it's about to get even odder.

Perhaps, buried deep in his psyche, he was expecting this - wanted it, even - but despite this knowledge Foreman's announcement still comes as a shock.

"I want you to replace House as Head of Diagnostics." he states, looking remarkably indifferent about the affair. "God knows your methods of deduction were the closest to his, and even he admitted your manipulation skills were superior. I think that makes you eligible." A beat passes; a minute. He can't process the offer, outwardly wasn't anticipating it, and his insides are warring with each other. After what's happened in the last few months, this is the cherry on top. Department Head? No House? In control? The concepts are mostly alien to him. He's been a DH before, but this is entirely different. Surgery was completely different, although he and Cameron dabbled in Diagnostics every now and then, and he was House's 'go-to' surgeon for his latest crazy idea. Only Chase, knowing House, would accept both the challenge and the risk, and his mentor-father figure knew it. And subconsciously, he's calling Allison 'Cameron' again. The gesture makes their relationship finite; the threads of their lives are untangled. They are at peace with one another, but every thread linking them is cut and neither has anything to say to the other.

He finds himself making decisions already about his team, if he accepts this offer. Adams and Park. Park will stay - she was always the least affected by House, despite her tendency to lash out, and he can deal with her remaining - House's mark is reversible upon her. But Adams... will he keep her? Chase theorises that House used her to get a friend in the system. He doesn't dislike her - but she's replaceable, and there's no one like Park. There are people like Adams, and she expressed thoughts of leaving regardless, now House is dead. He shakes his head; what's he doing? The first step is to decide whether he wants to stay here or move on, like so many others have. Cameron. Cuddy. Thirteen. He considers his life six years ago and wonders what he has done to make it change so much. He isn't pristine blond anymore. He has stubble, short hair. He got married and divorced in one year and he killed a man for what he thought was the greater good. He got stabbed, went through rehab, and had an affair with a prospective nun. Now he's about to take House's place and Foreman is already in Cuddy's, with Cameron far away in Chicago. Wilson, too, has gone, probably lost to his own specialty.

"All right," he finds himself saying inexplicably. "I'll take it." Foreman nods serenely, unperturbed by the fact that Chase has stood silent for about ten minutes while thoughts race through his head like lightning.

"Adams has left, by the way. You need to find at least one other fellow, as Taub's moved into Plastics again." Chase nods. He likes the idea of a team of three. Perhaps he'll add to the department later on, but in this initial turmoil he can only stand hiring one new colleague. He is indifferent to the gender. An antidote to Park, perhaps; someone calm and collected and with a specialty in something other than intensive care, neurology, and cardiology. Oh, stuff it. He'll decide when he gets there. He won't ask for any help with the interviews, although there'll be any number of applicants. PPTH has gained quite the reputation, but he knows what he's looking for.

"Advertise for one opening," he says, still in a slight daze. "And I don't want anyone with a specialty in what Park and I have already got between us. For the time being, I'll work in the ICU." Without waiting for the Dean to respond, he turns on his heel, ready to go back to the ICU and some sense of the norm.

* * *

He's right - there are over fifty CVs handed to him at the end of the week. Foreman barely masks his amusement, but Chase doesn't feel in a cavalier mood despite the sense of new camaraderie between them. Foreman - is he now Chase's Wilson? He doubts it - they're amicable enough, but not friends, and never will be. Foreman has too much respect for the rules, and while Chase has enough, he's far more inclined to bend them if it suits him. Regardless, he stops working in the ICU and instead sits down at what is now his desk. Park offers to help cut down the wad, and surprisingly, he accepts. They sit in an atmosphere of good work ethic, and Park is useful enough. He gives her half of the papers and tells her his requirements.

"Basically, I want what we don't have," he tells her simply. "I don't care about experience as long as they're not fresh out of med school, and I don't mind as to gender. Someone with a good temperament." Park nods and smiles slightly - she understands what he means. Silence descends, but it is not an awkward one, and they occasionally make comments about the applications before them.

"This one's out," Park says. "Hasn't actually done any procedures for years." She tosses the paper in the bin, where it makes a satisfying thud.

"Hah, this guy's a GP and wants a change of scenery." Scornfully, he screws it into a ball, wondering fleetingly if they'll ever find someone suitable, but Park has put her first CV into her 'possible' pile. He lifts an eyebrow, and she shrugs.

"Twenty six. A fairly seasoned emergency specialist, she's dabbled in immunology, too. Got her MD at twenty and the application was eloquently written - she didn't come across as a bitch or egotistic." Park never minces her words, and for now, it's a trait he finds useful. An hour passes and they're done, ending up with four candidates which he'll offer interviews. If one doesn't immediately stick out, he'll move on to clinical procedures and perhaps a test case - not a real one, and he already has in mind one of House's that he'd use. Candidate 1 is Park's emergency and immunology woman, by the name of Rena Grey. Number 2, a woman and haematologist, Tana Fountain. Three is a guy named Toby Sixx who's in trauma surgery, and four - another man who specialises in vascular surgery, Dean Martin. He buys Park a coffee afterwards to say thank you, and she says that she has confidence in him. He makes light of it, but inside, he is reassured. Perhaps, with the help of Park, someone else, and House's ball, he'll make a decent head and will manage to fill House's shoes at least halfway.

He's told the interviewees via email that the interviews will take place on Monday. That gives him the weekend to work out suitable questions for each. He considers going to Foreman or Park again for help in the matter but then decides against it. Robert knows he's capable of it, and on Saturday, goes and buys a new dark blue suit which brings out the colour of his eyes and makes him look that bit more administrative. It never bothered House, but House was an institution and didn't have to reach for authority. Foreman and himself have to grab on to any sense of power they can. Shaking his head in resignation, he looks at his sheath of notes. He hasn't been mean per se, but some of the questions are probing. He'll look into Fountain's restless nature, Sixx's daredevil antics, Martin's lack of anything social and Grey's personal statement of 'shy'. Each are well qualified, but already, if the interviews go as he anticipates, he gets a little further in elimination. Telling himself he's sufficiently prepared, Robert watches a film and goes to bed early, going without his usual date this weekend. He wants to be without even the trace of a hangover or anything that might impede his judgement, because tomorrow he's going to be sharp. Sharp, in control, and at the end of the day, with a new fellow.

* * *

Monday dawns, and he's up early, showering, eating and dressing within half an hour. Upon the realisation that it's only half past six, he allows himself time to sit and watch the news in the kitchen. Robert feels anticipative and eager to get the whole affair out of the way, to minimise embarassment. He doesn't want the forty year old Fountain to find reasons to pick holes in his appointment. He needs someone who will work well and not irritate Park, or him, for that matter. The interviews are all that fills his head when he walks into his office at nine o'clock sharp and finds Park there to greet him, although she doesn't look particularly excited. Her appearance is immaculate but so is his, and for a drawn out moment they regard each other and consider what is about to happen. He's called the applicants for nine thirty, and knows exactly what order he'll interview them. Fountain, Martin, Sixx, Grey. Partly for reassurance, he reads his notes over one more time and then sits with Park, where they engage in meaningless conversation.

"Who do you think you'll end up hiring?"

"They're all well qualified, so it'll be a question of temperament and who will fit best, or possibly who has the most potential as a diagnostician."

"Then Grey has the automatic knowledge of general medicine may be wider, due to her dual specialty."

"Grey's on even pegging with the others because if she lacks enough self confidence she'll be useless, but she was valedictorian of Harvard. Martin is an extremely experienced vascular surgeon, and Fountain also has a lot of experience. Sixx seems confident and easy going. What Grey and Sixx will have to fight the other two on is that they're less experienced and less comfortable in their own decisions." Park nods, by which time it's twenty past nine and he sees a woman outside. Fountain. Her dark brown hair is braided, dark skin unblemished and she's wearing quite the power suit, with extraordinarily high heels. Outwardly, she appears unflappable, perhaps even a little bored. Chase and Park exchange glances and he goes out to greet her.

"Dr. Fountain? Dr. Robert Chase, new Head of Diagnostics. If you'd care to sit in the conference room while we wait for the other applicants to arrive?" He won't start until they're all there, even if Fountain is the one he intends to quiz first.

"Of course, Dr. Chase." Fountain is one cool customer, and breezes in, setting herself down in one of the chairs without hesitation, nor a second glance at either him or Park. Park is hard to throw, though, and she just shrugs. Fountain is clearly only interested in the interviewer, and he catches her studying him out of the corner of his eye. She looks younger than what he knows her to be, but his attention is diverted when another arrives - Sixx. He repeats the same dialogue again, Sixx seeming quite laid back but with a dash of anticipation thrown in. He greets Fountain, but she replies only perfunctorily, reading handwritten notes in a leather bound book. Her handwriting is bold and clear, strange for a doctor. Twenty five past. Grey. She appears thinner and paler than in her photo, and contrary to the other two, looks a little nervous. She's dressed not as showily as Fountain but appears to have made an effort in her appearance. Her black hair is pinned up elegantly, and her simple ensemble of a white blouse, blue v-neck jumper and murky gold skirt works well on her slender frame. He repeats the information, but she has trouble maintaining eye contact, glancing away at the office.

"Thank you, sir." she murmurs politely in response, shakes his hand lightly and sitting after a brief pause next to Sixx. He gives her a salutation and she responds more amiably than Fountain, although quietly. Sixx engages her in conversation, and she doesn't appear to mind, but Chase sees Grey tracing a repetitive pattern on her hand and her right leg shakes a little in nerves. They appear to be introducing themselves; their specialties. Trauma surgery and Emergency. Sixx is drawing out Grey, and it appears he's good at conversation even with someone as introverted as the skittish doctor before him. Fountain is still segregated from the two of them; eyes still on the prize. It's nine thirty on the dot when Martin arrives; Chase gestures him in then closes the door. Park stands off to the side, mostly out of view, but she's sizing the lot of them up and not trying to hide it. The four heads instantly go to him, expectant.

* * *

**A/N: **I always pondered what would happen after 'Everybody Dies' to Chase and his new department. Thus, this was born.

Feedback is much appreciated - I've already written all of this, so the next chapter should be up when I get sufficient response.


	2. Shells, Broken and Not so Much

"Right. Good morning and welcome. Once the interviews are conducted, and after brief consultation with my colleague Dr. Park at least one of you will be cut. Any questions?" Robert doesn't see any point in going on; he's been succinct. There's silence, so he continues. "Dr. Fountain, if you would?" she nods, apparently raring to go, and he holds the office door open. Sixx starts speaking quietly with Grey again - probably about him, but Chase finds he doesn't really care. Fountain sits opposite him and they start.

"So," he mutters, flipping through his notes. "I understand haematology is your specialty?"

"Yes," she says. "I found it very stimulating from a young age."

"And you graduated from the University of Mississipi."

"I did, second in my class." She doesn't miss out on the opportunity to big herself up, but it's an interview, so he won't take issue with it. Fountain will take the opportunity to put herself above the other candidates in any way she can. She wants this badly, for whatever reason, and he thinks to inquire about that.

"What makes you interested in transferring to Diagnostics?" This intrigues him - the reason must be good if she's willing to work under a man eight years her junior. But something inside him suspects that Fountain wants to work here for the place's reputation, and under the belief that Gregory House's successor must be good. It isn't his place to make judgements like that, but Fountain's character is such that he finds it hard to believe it's anything else.

"I'm a person who loves challenges, Dr. Chase. Diagnostics certainly presents them on a regular basis. You might find yourself questioning why I've moved around so much, but the fact is that none of those jobs sated my curiosity, my need to stretch myself as a physician." Impressed, Robert nods and scribbles a note down on his so far empty pad. She'd pre-empted his question, and he'd rather hoped the interview might have been drawn out by it, but she was clearly adept at interviews and knew her own resume well enough to realise that any half decent interviewer would ask that question of her. He found her to be a little lacquered over, but she seemed confident and capable enough. Clearing his throat, he asks her a few more questions, gives her a few hypothetical scenarios of relative difficulty but he's unable to jilt her from her position of absolute calm and professionalism, no matter how hard he tries, and admits defeat.

"Thank you," he says finally, gesturing to the door and rising himself. Martin is next, and Robert isn't really looking forward to this one. Martin appears grouchy, fifty or so, and already he knows that this is a formality. But Chase doesn't have the heart to tell the guy straight out that he's not suitable, won't fit in to Chase's idea of the ideal colleague, won't fit in with him or Park. Keeping his face a professional mask, he calls the man in, sits. The older doctor, he knows, is a brilliant surgeon, has a brilliant mind that would probably be well suited to diagnostics, but his temperament is hard to ignore. Park is grouchy enough without the aid of this man, and Chase needs a team player, not a loner. He starts off lightly enough, and his assessment is confirmed - Martin is brilliant, but he won't hire him. Martin should be the leader and he'd find it hard to take direction from a younger boss, which Chase doesn't take offense at. Martin seems to realise that this isn't the position for him either, and the interview is rather short. The vascular specialist returns to his seat, and he calls Sixx in. If neither he nor Grey mess up, it's down to three now.

* * *

Sixx is relaxed but carries an air of enthusiasm that Robert instantly takes liking to. He seems to be in a constant state of content, despite his fast paced and pretty reckless lifestyle. His interaction with Grey confirms that he's good at navigating the seas of social interaction.

"Dr. Sixx. Seems you're quite the daredevil." Sixx laughs, nodding genially and pushing his dark hair out of his eyes.

"Yup, definitely. But you know what they say about doctors - we work hard and we play hard, right?" Inwardly, he agrees, but it would be out of context to say so. Instead, he moves on to his next line of questioning.

"There isn't anything else that drives you to it? Do you find Medicine too stressful, perhaps?" Sixx's carefree expression falters a little, and his eyes carry a little less amity in them. Robert isn't surprised - he's getting a little more intrusive now, and Sixx is easier to pick at than Fountain. He didn't feel the need to do so with Martin.

"No. I just need a break like the next guy does." An edge creeps into the young man's voice, and Robert is resigned to feeling like the bad guy.

"So do I. However, I don't indulge in-" he consults the paper "-bridge jumping as a hobby when I've had a hard shift."

"My hobby is a little out there. Does it make me unfit to be a physician? I don't think so." Sixx seems a little put out by his inquiries, and it's evident he's easier to fluster than Fountain, despite his easy-going exterior. The laid back nature is a shell that's not difficult to crack, and although his argument is a fair one, Robert can't help but wonder whether he can handle the pressure of Diagnostics.

"Fair enough," he relents outwardly, even though he's not really convinced. He then proceeds to ask Sixx a whole host of other questions, giving him the same scenarios as Fountain, and he comes up with different but equally valid approaches. Robert begins to think it's the method of deduction that he'll choose, mostly independant of temperament. He will pick the best reasoner out of the lot of them, something that'll have to be tested in the next round. Next round... he's thinking like House, and it makes him laugh internally. Perhaps the cantankerous genius has left a little legacy in him, and it reassures Robert to know that perhaps all those years of verbal abuse have paid off - he's gotten something from the former diagnostician.

He sends Sixx out, but this time doesn't instantly follow, allowing himself a little time to ponder what has transpired thus far. Sixx, Fountain... they are still players, Sixx by no means ruled out. It'll be the next test that will either alleviate or confirm Robert's doubts about him. Fountain is a strong contender, even if personally he finds her hard to warm to. She's capable, confident and experienced, not to mention focused, and a conscientious person is always good to have. Not that he and Park are slackers, but Fountain takes duty to a whole other level. She won't shirk her responsibilities, and that's always a good think to know, too. The one thing counting against her is that he's not sure if she'll be able to accept him, regardless of the hospital's renown. What she really wants is the long-gone Gregory House, and by going for the position under him she is somewhat settling for what will be second best in her book. He needs someone who will follow him even if he's wrong, someone who can take instruction. That's where Grey will have the advantage. She's young like he was when he got his MD, and she is more the antidote to Park like he wanted. Two women, though? He can't shake House's formula of two men and one woman, but tells himself that deviating from House's ideals is a good thing - he is not the Head anymore, Chase is. And regardless of Grey's gender, she's an accomplished person.

* * *

Clearing his head, he goes to call her in, but she doesn't wait for him to say it, merely rises with a quick glance at Sixx, who's less gregarious post-grilling.

He directs her to sit and she does rather primly, dark eyes still incapable of focusing on him. Chase doesn't take too much issue with her introversion - most inexperienced people probably would be a little nervous at an interview - but he needs to dig to see if she has the confidence, to see whether three will become two or not. He asks her a few simple questions and she replies in the same eloquent manner that her application was written in. She strikes him as a very intelligent woman, beyond the fact that she's a doctor. If he were to ask her about other academic topics he has a feeling that she'd be well versed in those, too. But he sticks to increasingly harder medical questions and she gives him the correct answers, a hint of a wry smile crossing her face at the pop quiz.

"Dr. Grey, you seem a well-rounded medical professional, but in your personal statement, you describe yourself as 'shy'. Care to elaborate?" she shrugs, a little more comfortable now she can gauge his character a bit, and looks in at least his general direction.

"I am shy, at least around new people," she seems almost dismissive. "I was being honest about my flaws. It doesn't mean I don't trust my own judgement - just not really a socialite. And, Dr. Chase," her smirk widens. "Before you ask, because most people do - it doesn't impair my bedside manner. At least, in my opinion. Being in a set environment is much easier." But then she appears introverted once more. "I... I realise why I may not be the obvious choice, Dr. Chase, sir. Dr. Fountain has so much c-confidence, and so much more experience. In fact, she's r-really the better option," she laughs self-deprecatingly. "But I wasn't valedictorian of Harvard for nothing." Her smirk is back, although weak, and it seems like the natural point to end. It occurs to him that it's not so much that he's broken her shell - she's volunteered the information of her own accord, willingly. Sixx's demeanour was so much more defensive, and hers appeared merely resigned to her own character faults. He hasn't won any particular battles with her yet, but she is hiding something, and something tells him that if he were to hire her, she wouldn't volunteer that information as lightly as Sixx - although he hadn't as much volunteered the information as demonstrated it. Chase feels weary, and wants to finish for today, but it's only now ten thirty and he has to dismiss Martin. The consultation with Park seems almost obsolete, and perhaps she's guessed it, but comes in to talk anyway after he sends Grey away.

"You'll cut Martin and base your choice on who comes up with the solution." she says emotionlessly. She's more observant than he gives her credit for, so doesn't try to deny it.

"Do you think that's the right course of action?"

"Yes. I don't like Fountain, though." Park states, brutally candid as usual.

"I'll concede she seems a hard person to like, but she might be what the team needs," he responds objectively. "Dr. Fountain is just very driven and a woman whose main focus is to get what she wants. I can't contest that. Plus, if she's good at deduction the argument might be too much in her favour to hire anyone else." Inwardly, he hopes Grey or Sixx figures it out, but he can't send Fountain home just on the basis that she's hard to warm to. Foreman was hard to warm to at first, but he turned out to be more than a fair diagnostician.

"I want Grey on the team, Chase." There she goes, stating her desires outright instead of letting him make the decision unhindered by knowing what choice she wants him to make. Park is serious, though, the look on her face the most serious she ever gives. He shrugs.

"That's a promise I can't make to you and you know it. As you've already guessed, I'm hiring the person who gets the answer in the little simulation I'm going to run."

"How are you going to run it? Stick each on their own in a room and go round until one of them gets it right?"

"I am going to get them to do it alone, but it's not really a diagnosis exercise... the thing I have planned will be more logical reasoning. Besides, there would be no situation where they'd ever have to diagnose alone... but it isn't really a diagnosis, per se, as I said. The whole point is that it's meant to fool them into thinking it is." Park concurs, and it seems her interrogation has reached its end, although she seems curious to know the exact nature of his little test.

She would find out soon enough. It was time for some fun and games.

* * *

**A/N: **Not much to say other than please review! They make my day, and concrit is always welcomed.


	3. Endgame

**Disclaimer: **Any recognisable characters belong to their respective owners.

This chapter contains slight spoilers for the episode _Airborne. _I realise the whole 'test' is very rubbish, but regardless, enjoy.

* * *

Toby is quiet when he leaves the interview room, and it appears to disconcert his partner in conversation. The Australian doesn't immediately call for her, and he can't tell whether his competitor is glad or fretful. She draws that same pattern on her pale skin over and over, but Toby ignores her in favour of pondering his own situation. The guy didn't like him, evidently disapproving of his antics outside of work. A rush of anger runs through him; to be judged on what he does outside of his profession irritates him beyond belief. Because Fountain doesn't go out and have fun, she's more eligible? He bites down on his lip, hard, just to quell the profanities that want to stream from his mouth. He's always played hard, ever since he was a boy growing up in Chicago. He's done about every extreme sport there is - mountain biking, abseiling, rock climbing - if there's a thrill to be found doing it, he's done it. Trauma surgery is a hard specialty, and it brings stress, but it also brings arrogance and more than a little smugness - to be able to hold people's lives in the palm of their hands and be able to dictate whether they live or die is no mean feat. To repair shattered remains of a body and watch as he pieces it back together is something he'll never forget, not when he's old and grey - if he makes it that long - and not now. Whenever he feels a little too danger-happy, Toby reminds himself of the people on his table, under his hands, and it's enough to stem the thirst for the adrenaline rush. He shakes his head, and this apparently alarms Grey, who gets up from her seat without needing to be called. He doesn't know what to make of her. True, he engaged her in discussion, but it was more a distraction exercise - oddly, conversing aids his focus. But he knows that the job is all but lost to him now, and it's a shame. Toby knows of this hospital's reputation, and the reputation he could gain by working here, and it's not a chance he wants to pass up easily. Expression falling into a frown, he sneaks a glance at Fountain, who's now reading the famous _Molecular Cell Biology. _He wonders why - as an experienced doctor, she should know it by heart. Goodness knows he does, and he's only been a trauma surgeon for about two years. At thirty, he falls somewhere in the middle of the line, although he suspects Grey is a young whiz kid who probably graduated before he did. Fountain and Martin are most likely to be already at the top of their respective specialties, and he questions why they're here, to go so much further down the ladder - and down in salary. Perhaps they have money to burn and the amount is irrelevant to them.

Money, psh. He's never been motivated by money. As long as he has enough to get by, the earnings don't matter to him. Toby sees the Korean Doctor - Park, the Australian named her - eying him and making little secret of it. Her bulbous glasses give her a slightly unnerving gaze, eyes too large and dark for her face. Her attire is flawless, much like Fountain's although in an extremely different style. In interest, he cocks his head, but she promptly looks away, not wanting to be caught actually interacting with him. Well, she needn't worry. If his approximations were right, there was no chance in hell he'd get the position. Fountain would get it. The hot-shot types always did.

Tana is studiously ignoring her competition and instead focusing on her book, but the familiar words only blur together. She wants this badly. Of course, she's got enough of a prestigous position where she is, but to be honest she can't tolerate the boredom a day longer. Head of Haematology at New York General... Tana feels if she sees one more administrative document requiring her signature she'll scream. She can't stand that aspect of Medicine, and her savings have accumulated sufficiently for Roseanne to attend a private school regardless. Roseanne... she'll complain about moving again, if and when Tana gets the position. She's always been good at interviews, known exactly how to rub people the right way. Exuding confidence comes naturally for her, and it would take possibly an earthquake or a hurricane to remove her eyes from the prize. Tana knows that Roseanne's in safe enough hands back in New York, so there's little point in worrying about her daughter. Roseanne will grow to become a confident, independant young woman, just like Tana. She finds herself unable to repress a small smile at the thought of her little girl. Tana had her child late, married late, although she barely sees her husband, and that arrangement works for both of them. They're so like each other, Tana worries that their workaholism will inflict damage upon Roseanne, but she dismisses it as trivial. She is merely doing her duty as a good role model, and Roseanne will learn well from her mother's example, that she intends to ensure. None of this 'life is meant to be fun' bullshit. Life is to achieve and to excel, to perform to the best of one's ability. Tana nods to herself as she examines her fellows - Sixx appears pensive, a tinge of worry clouding his relatively youthful features, and Martin merely appears bored. The other woman is little issue - far too skittish to be of any worth as a doctor. Tana feels a condescending smirk cross her face; she has this in the bag.

Rena leaves the room in a state of resignation. She's failed; dissolved into incoherency at the most inopportune moment possible and wasn't even able to make full eye contact with the man, who was perfectly pleasant to her. Why did this always happen to her? Why couldn't things go wrong for someone else for once? Why was it always her? She feels like kicking something, hitting something; anything to vent her inner frustration. She so wanted this job, too - such a wonderful opportunity. The field interests her, the team would be intimate (something she's always preferred, though she tries to hide it) and she'd be able to dabble in and out of Emergency from time to time. Her life has been pretty much all work, though it doesn't particularly bother her. It took a lot of work to get her MD at twenty, and dealing with people's prejudices about her age had always been hard. At school, the other kids that didn't go to her 'gifted' institution always used to tease her on the bus home, and it was like that until her school eventually bought it's own bus to ferry the pupils to and fro. She ponders school for a moment, the experience. It certainly wasn't traditional, but then again, so little in her life has been. Social interaction was a rare thing - it was more common to see students debating the merits of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle than doing anything as mundane as simply talking about culture. She can only describe herself as 'satisfied' during her school years, not happy. Stimulated, yes. Pushed, yes. But happy, no. Rena purses her lips in an oddly old manner for someone of her age, and it puts years on her face. Quickly, she clears her mind, but the doubt still lingers in her head, invading her confidence like a poisonous snake whose venom is fatal. She's jumpy enough as it is, and all she wants is to leave so as to get this farce, this sham, over with. She sees Dr. Chase leave the room after a quick conversation with his colleague, and she lifts her gaze a little. All the eyes in the room are now focused on him.

"After deliberation, Dr. Martin, you're no longer eligible for the position. Dr. Fountain, Dr. Sixx, Dr. Grey, the three of you will now go on to do a task that will decide which of you gets the opening." Rena watches Martin rise, shake Chase's hand, and leave, quite calmly. He probably realised it wasn't for him and it was no loss for him not to get the job. But she's through! It feels almost like a tournament, a game even, but it doesn't particularly perturb her. Mentally, she treats life like one big game of chess - this interview shouldn't be any different. A tournament where Fountain is Roger Federer, Sixx Juan Martin Del Potro and she the lowly unrenowned competitor with barely an outside chance. The negativity is instant; part of her nature, to doubt herself so. Dr. Chase has paused, apparently figuring out how best to phrase his instructions, and so she attempts to regain her concentration. "The objective is to diagnose the other people on the airplane." he says. "Not the one who collapsed, but the other people. The handout should explain sufficiently." He slides a piece of paper in front of each of them, and Rena can see Fountain immediately starting to scan the information. "First one to solve it gets the job. Dr. Grey, if you would go in my office, Dr. Sixx - Dr. Park will take you to another room, and Dr. Fountain, you'll be remaining here. When you think you have it, come to Dr. James Wilson's office. Dr. Park will direct you there." Wordlessly, Rena rises, tucks her chair in out of ingrained habit, and goes into the well kept office. He hasn't been in it very long, and only a touch of personality bleeds through the walls. His medical and residency certificates line them, along with another for surgery. There are no photos, but a red and grey tennis ball lies on his desk inexplicably. She begins to read the paper, reading each line twice so to make sure she's fully understood its contents.

_1. A man throws up on an airplane. Initial symptoms include vomiting, a rash on his back, abdominal pain, and a fever. The two doctors on board as passengers examine him and discuss potential diagnoses as well as the symptoms._

_2. A few minutes later, a woman in the seat in front comes down with the same symptoms._

_3. Passengers are told that if they start exhibiting symptoms, they should isolate themselves in the first class cabin, the location of the original victim._

_4. Passengers exhibit symptoms._

_What do the passengers have?_

* * *

Chase smirks to himself. It isn't a diagnosis, not really - it's deduction. The passengers only exhibit symptoms after being told what they are, and the same goes for the woman - as she was in the seat in front, she could hear the doctors talking. Therefore, it's conversion disorder, commonly known as mass hysteria. He wonders who will be first to see through his poor little trick, but stops his thought process in its tracks - he shouldn't try to guess. House would approve, if he was here - but the very fact that he isn't has necessitated this whole charade. Pursing his lips, he makes his way to Wilson's office. It still doesn't have a new occupant, and so he's free to sit in it. Wilson's personality is like a bad smell, still there in fragments. If he's truly run off, then by now he must only have a month or two left. Maybe even less. Chase feels impatient for one of them to figure it out, but there's nothing he can do now but wait.

He doesn't have to wait too long. Fountain appears, an unhappy Park at her side. He sees the Korean has her fingers crossed behind her back. Fountain looks him straight in the eyes, a confident smirk on her face, and says clearly "Meningitis." A slow, wry smirk spreads across his chiseled features, and he shakes his head.

"Incorrect, I'm afraid." Fountain barely masks the look of absolute incredulity that crosses her face, but she lets Park lead her out, not seeing the other doctor's grin. He'll let Fountain try again, because that's the obvious conclusion, but she's missed the point of the task. She's trying to diagnose the initial victim, forgetting that it's the passengers that are her patients. There's a light knock on the door, and he doesn't need to see who it is to know. Grey is stood there, hesitation plastered all over her face, and she pauses and looks at the door. "You can try again if you get it wrong," he tells her. "You can take as many guesses as you'd like." she nods, glances at Park for some reason, and manages to look at him.

"I, um, think that they have conversion disorder. Mass hysteria, it's colloquially known as." When he doesn't immediately respond, she starts babbling. "Oh, I thought I was wrong, I was basing my diagnosis not even on any symptoms given, I'm so sorry for wasting your-" He puts a finger up to stop her and smiles again, no hint of irony in his face.

"Congratulations, Dr. Grey." The look on her face can only be described as flabbergasted. Mouth agape, eyes bulging, she seems incapable of speech. "I understand you work in Atlanta at present? When can you start?"

"...A week?" she says, still appearing slightly out of it. "I can rent somewhere pretty easily. I mean, if a landlord will even... sorry." she mutters sheepishly.

"A week it is. Until then." As she heads out of the door, still looking utterly bamboozled, he turns to Park and murmurs "So it begins."

* * *

**A/N: **This chapter is the conclusion of the first story arc, and the entire fic will consist of two. Chapter Four, _Playing House_, is already done but I'm away for a week and imminently busy, so there may be more delay than usual in getting it up.

Just a note; the story will contain no 'cases' - it focuses much more on relationships between people and character development. There isn't any intentional pairings, either, and that will be the same for Chase's newly hired employee (OCxCanon character is something to be avoided, in my opinion).

Also, I would really love some in-depth reviews, and that includes concrit.

Thank you for reading so far, and here's to the next arc!

A small teaser for _Playing House_, in which an apartment is moved into and positions are questioned:

_He was tired of fooling around as Department Head, tired of dealing with Park, tired of worrying about Grey and whether she'd live up to his expectations. He was frustrated at his own apparent incompetence, playing mind games with his applicants just to make himself feel superior. _


	4. Playing House

Rena tells herself that it will be okay precisely three times when she enters the apartment.

The place is barren, the last inhabitant's personality lingering like a bad smell, and the place is so uninviting that she wants to turn out her heel and walk out of the door. Instead, she squares her shoulders, picks up two of her suitcases, and marches into the bedroom. The double bed is the only semi-pleasant thing in the perfect square. The walls are a murky tan colour that looks dirty even if it isn't, the drawers are pushed uncomfortably into a corner, and she doesn't even want to look at the ensuite bathroom. But this was the only place available, and if anything, Rena keeps to her word. Monday was promised, and Monday it will be. Instinctively, she bites her lip. She has no friends here, no favours to draw on. She must unpack, alone, and in this strange place.

She came here on a whim, fleeing Atlanta in search of refuge, and if nothing, the dreary environment makes her forget herself. As Rena slowly fills the chest of drawers on autopilot, she ponders why she was so keen to flee, to seek asylum in an unknown place where she's known by exactly no one. What sent her away is not the most obvious of things, and some might perceive her as cowardly, but she isn't. In fact, Rena is brave. _Brave_, she repeats. _I am brave_. Sighing, she dumps herself on the bed, resisting the urge to put her head in her hands. The tan walls inexplicably feel oppressive, closing in on her, but she pushes the feeling away. Grabbing a CD at random, she sets it in the player in an attempt to try and make a more amiable atmosphere. The Boomtown Rats blare out, too loud, screaming "I Don't Like Mondays" and she hastily turns the volume dial. Tiredness washes over her from the journey, slipping out of her parents' house in the early morning, and yet it is only the beginnings of the afternoon. She hasn't eaten, but Rena finds that as she considers a sandwich her stomach protests. Not wanting to fall ill before her first day at a new job, she eschews food for glass after glass of water, her things lying haphazard all over the bedroom. Alcohol doesn't tempt her, either; Rena's never been one to try and drink herself into oblivion. She simply stays motionless on the sofa, listening to the music until the CD finishes, and she finds she doesn't have sufficient energy to rise and change it. Hours pass, and she is still there, spreadeagled on the seat like a corpse, so immobile is she, but eyes the colour of her surname stare and stare at the ceiling.

* * *

At some point, she must have drifted off to sleep, for she awakes on that Sunday morning with her stomach growling and her throat aching. Frustrated, she grabs a drink from the tap, taking eggs and foraging through the kitchen cupboards in search of a frying pan. She's brought some staple foods with her, packed neatly in a cooler bag and takes butter out of the fridge, dumping a generous knob of it into the heated pan. While she concocts the scrambled eggs, Rena feels stiff, still in yesterday's clothes. She accomplished so little she holds back a self-deprecating laugh, closing her eyes and smirking over the tiny wooden table. Today, she tells herself, today she'll get things done - from now on she will not slack off when not at work. The eggs cooked, she manages to find a plate and some cutlery, the radio softly on in the background, informing her that it'll be a cold day today, with some possibility of showers. In this way Princeton is like Atlanta; at least she is prepared for rain. Maybe she'll take a trip outside and explore the area, but Rena knows she won't. A movie, some good quality chocolate... Rena finds herself nodding. But only once she's finished unpacking. It'll be her treat for the evening; she has to earn it first. Smiling automatically at the prospect, she clears the table unnecessarily and makes for the bedroom, where half of her wardrobe is still strewn across the rough carpet. As she works, she hums tunelessly, mind somewhere else. Soon her few items are in the dresser, more formal attire hung up semi-neatly on hangers. She allows herself a half-hour respite, staring aimlessly out of the lounge window and watching the snow, nursing a coffee.

Tea break completed, she then goes down to the corner shop and buys the best chocolate they offer, although if she could be bothered the mall provides better. That's an excursion for another day, if she can brave the crowds. She sighs, twirling a strand of dark hair around one long, pale finger. Her keyboard is set awkwardly to the side of the lounge, out of place, one new thing among so many old, but she feels no urge to sit at the keys. She hates herself sometimes, curses her own introversion, her ineptitude. Perhaps that's why she likes being a doctor; it's where she feels most in control. She knows she's a good physician, and it provides comfort. She's comfortable now, alone, basking in solitude, but it unnerves her. Some people have an insatiable need to be around others, but not Rena Grey, oh no. Clearing her head, she starts setting other odd trinkets around the room, setting her box of books on the shelves. It gives a marginal improvement, and she half smiles. In her pocket, her cell phone rings, and she jumps, before scolding herself and picking up.

"Rena Grey." she answers in a monotone.

"Hi, it's Park." Park? Rena fumbles momentarily before recalling Chase's colleague, the Korean woman.

"Um, hello." she greets awkwardly, wanting her to get to the point. Rena isn't much good at small talk.

"I was wondering if you needed any help unpacking? I guess you must've moved in somewhere, and you don't know anyone. Chase won't come over, he has this whole thing about professional boundaries ever since his divorce, but I don't mind lending a hand." Slightly disquieted by her fellow's candor about their boss, Rena realises she should answer, and considers declining but eventually decides against it. She doesn't want to appear churlish at Park's generosity, after all.

"Um, if you'd like..." she settles for. Rena haltingly gives the address, and Park says she won't be long. Her offer baffles the young doctor; they are positively strangers with only, so far, the most tenuous of connections. She shakes her head. Now isn't the time to psychoanalyse - she should just be grateful there's someone willing to help. Park must have little to do at weekends, else she wouldn't offer, reasons Rena. Besides, it might be useful for someone to give her a bit more information about her workplace. She hasn't even met the Dean of Medicine yet, although he knows he's a former member of the Diagnostics department under Chase's predecessor, Gregory House. He was infamous in the field, but Rena really didn't think she'd want to work under him. Working under Chase seemed more attractive, and something she could do for a few years before she had to decide where to go. She was twenty six, after all, and there was little pressure for her to consider such things. She realised that she should have been out the night before - most people her age were - but she didn't think much of it. No, she'll sit in, read, and enrich herself. Ultimately, she'll be the one better off in the future. Rena envisions herself sitting on a balcony, sipping at a cocktail, a faceless husband putting his hands on her shoulders. She frowns, and tells herself she's wasting time. The books are done, but she wants to rearrange the furniture a little. It's likely she'll be staying for a while, too busy to find anywhere more pleasant, and so she has to do what she can in the meantime to make this place more homely.

Rena's prior thoughts make her consider the years ahead more in depth. Will she find someone, or end up a spinster? Department Head? Consultant? Renowned? Her head buzzes with questions, questions she's too tired to answer, and she chastises herself for speculating; it's useless, after all. Life will deal her a wild card and she'll end up somewhere she's never even considered. That seems to always be the way. Pressing her lips together in focus, she absently rubs her eye while she thinks. In ten years time, will she be in Chase's position? She finds herself curious about the enigmatic man, although she's almost as bad herself. Her hand drifts to her stomach and a flash of anger, unexpected, overwhelms her. Closing her eyes, a soft rebuke escaping her lips, it's then (at the most inopportune moment) that the doorbell rings and as if guided by invisible strings, she goes to open it, automatically greeting Park quietly and apologising for the mess.

"No problem!" says her colleague cheerily, walking in without needing Rena's permission. She finds herself assessing her fellow, her perfect appearance, her brutal honesty, and decides that they won't make too bad of a team. Perhaps this was Chase's intention all along, to get polar opposites with different strengths and weaknesses to cover each other. Again she wonders what his own are, the polite Australian, the attractive but distant man. She senses life has dealt him badly, but she can't put her finger on what. Rena isn't a psych specialist and deliberately avoided the specialty, not wanting to know her own shortcomings in more detail, and not wanting to see them in others. But she's perceptive enough to see that there is more to him than what he's demonstrated. "What do you want me to do? I don't want food or drink or anything." Park's voice snaps her out of her reverie and she momentarily is lost for words, something that occurs too often for her liking.

"I-if you could help me rearrange the f-furniture?" she feels more idiotic by the second, eloquence deserting her. "This sofa here... and..." So they set to work, grunting from the exertion in a rather unfeminine manner, and more than once Park scolds their boss for not offering his aid as a man. Rena comments that that's slightly misogynistic, lightly, and instantly her colleague is berating herself. She has high standards, it seems, and Rena hopes she can meet them. Meet their boss's, too, and the Dean's. She hasn't met the 'ultimate boss', though Chase has scheduled a meeting on Monday for her as they won't have a case. Apparently there will be some light 'team-building' activities, ordered by the Dean, that seem to be mandatory at all her workplaces. She wonders how silly it will be, and whether they'll be doing stuff in the vein of falling back into each others' arms or something ridiculous like it. The thought makes her chuckle silently - none of them seem inclined to those sorts of things. Perhaps they'll get away with the bare minimum and be able to get on with doing their jobs as doctors, which is surely what her associates will want, too. Doctors, she thinks; all are workaholics to a degree, and most are dismissive of their own health due to constantly analysing that of others. Ultimately, the best doctors are the ones willing to go that extra mile, those that possess that innate selflessness and don't have to strive for it. She wonders if she has this quality and tells herself that it's too early in her career to tell. Rena wishes often that she knew herself better, considers going to a counselor about it, and then resolves to do nothing because she lacks the guts to outwardly admit that she has no clue whatsoever to her inner workings.

Park and she finish the work in companionable silence, Rena only speaking to direct when necessary. Park is to the point, too, and she finds herself taking a liking to the other woman. Perhaps the job would be better than she'd anticipated, and she'd form relationships with her colleagues. Chi isn't as sure about her new acquaintance. She knows that the woman is very intelligent, perhaps superior to her in that regard, but Chi wants her to show some vim, some vigour. At present, her colleague is like a badly cooked recipe, all the correct ingredients for potential but underdone. She laughs at the bad analogy, wonders what she's come to, and decides to take her leave. The immunologist doesn't require her help further, and she should go home before it gets too late. Grey insists that she have a coffee in thanks for her efforts on her behalf, and not wanting to argue she obliges.

Maybe Grey is a little more social than she lets on.

* * *

On the other side of Princeton, in a pleasant apartment with clean-looking walls, Robert Chase was tired.

He was tired of fooling around as Department Head, tired of dealing with Park, tired of worrying about Grey and whether she'd live up to his expectations. He was frustrated at his own apparent incompetence, playing mind games with his applicants just to make himself feel superior. Scathingly, he knocked over his empty glass of water. All Park and he had done all week was clinic duty, and it had left both understimulated and irritable. Five days of diagnosing the flu or a heavy cold was not something any doctor particularly cared for. Oh well. At least he didn't have House's clinic hours on top of his own, and Chase resolved not to do the same with his own 'ducklings' - if the two women could be called that. There were times when he thought Park was more in control than he was, although she wasn't burdened with his responsibilities. She'd informed him that she intended to visit Grey over the weekend, and he'd been largely indifferent to it, as long as he wasn't expected to do the same. True, Grey wasn't an unpleasant woman, but conversation with her was stilted, to say the least, and she seemed like a very introspective type, always considering herself. Chase didn't like doing that, and so he minimised unnecessary social interaction with people who did.

It occurred to Chase that he was merely playing House, despite all his attempts to move on and to make the position his own. Tonight, he regretted taking up Foreman's offer, when he could have been in a nice cosy position in the surgical department again. Robert knew he was a good surgeon, it empowered him, but his surgical prowess had little bearing on the current situation. This was a foray into hospital politics, people. Oh, Robert could manipulate subconsciously with a charming smile and a gentle bedside manner, but he wasn't comfortable deliberately playing with people the way House had done. It divided them, made them separate people when in many ways they were similar. Robert wasn't as eclectic, but mutual respect characterised the last year of their friendship, if it could be called that. House had changed him, for better or for worse, and now it was Robert's job to fill his legacy. He shook his head, despondent; he could never be House. Grey and Park were never going to be the same as that oh-so-good team of years back. Feeling a pang of longing for the beer in his fridge, he told himself no. It was Grey's first day tomorrow, and she didn't seem the type to be impressed by a hungover boss. It was time to be responsible.

Responsible... ha.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay in posting this up, but I've been massively busy with vacation and the new school year. I realise this is a less eventful chapter but the next will probably be much better!

Thanks for your support, and as always, concrit is welcome.


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